Loser
by Lifeguard
Summary: A oneshot/tag on to "Con Man in the Meth Lab," that re-writes the shooting scene. The episode ends the same but I've added some B&B that seemed to be lacking in that one section.


_**Title: Loser**_

_**Author: Lifeguard**_

_**Rating: **__PG_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. _

_**Spoilers: **__Con Man in the Meth Lab_

_**Author's Note: **__Con Man was on the other day and even though it's a good episode I was not satisfied with the way B&B reacted when Bones was shot. Maybe I'm just a sucker for drama and the whole hurt/comfort thing, so I took it upon myself to re-write the scene. I tweaked some things, like where she was shot but overall, the episode would/will end the same, at the bar for Booth's birthday. So please, read, review and let me know if you liked this re-write. Enjoy! _

* * *

"Do you want me to shoot him? I'm a good shot."

"You are not a good shot," was his curt response.

She was still talking, rambling on about switching guns so he could shoot the rotten sheriff but all he really wanted was for her to shut up.

This was not going to help ease the tension between them. He would chastise her about her shooting abilities and how she shouldn't get in the way when they were in a tough situation. She would argue that she is a good shot and she should be allowed to have a gun for situations such as these. They would probably fight for the entire ride home. They had been snapping at each other ever since the last interrogation when he had asked her if she thought he was a loser.

The sheriff quipping about Booth being a terrible hostage negotiator was not helping.

Bones turned her head to continue giving advice and lost focus of the target. It was taking all his skill and training to ignore her.

It was in that second that the sheriff saw his advantage.

The gun shot rang out and as if in slow motion he saw her recoil, heard her cry of shock and pain.

"Bones!"

Clutching her shoulder she stumbled backwards, falling onto the road and then slumping back against the street light.

"Bones! Are you okay?!"

The sheriff was making his get away and Booth was torn between his fallen partner and the innocent hostage. He looked frantically between them, his feet moving forward but his mind screaming to go back.

"Bones!"

"I'm okay…" it was a weak reply, he didn't believe it for one second, but the sheriff's cruiser was tearing away, dumping Stedman's wife onto the street. Booth didn't waste his opportunity and fired his first shot.

It missed and he swore as he fired the next. This one hit and the cruiser careened to the left. He fired again and with a satisfying crash the cruiser came to a stop. He could see the sheriff slumped over the wheel, clearly unconscious. Sirens rang out in the distance; back up was on its way. Knowing the bad guy wasn't getting away he fled back towards his partner.

Paul Stedman embraced his wife but behind them Brennan was standing weakly, his gun in her hands.

Approaching Brennan, his eyes silently asked if she was alright, but he saw the gun shake in her hand and he muttered another curse as he took in the blooming crimson stain on her shoulder.

"Bones…" her name fell from his lips as he reached out to her. His gun clattered to the ground as her knees gave out. He grabbed her before she hit the ground and embraced her.

Her blue eyes met his, "I'm okay," it came out shaky, un-steady on her lips as her good hand flew back to the wound, staunching the blood, "It hit the top of my shoulder, I'll be fine…" she finished, her lips trembling.

Booth eased her body so that she rested on his broad chest. He wrapped one arm around her and then brought his other hand to rest on top of hers, her warm blood seeping out at the edges.

"It's okay, it's over," he said as much to reassure himself and her, "The medics are on their way."

* * *

Patients and staff alike in the ER were giving him odd looks ranging from pity to disgust, all prompted by the deep red stains on his white dress shirt. Most of the looks went unnoticed by the FBI agent who sat, waiting, in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Booth's mind kept replaying the scene over in his mind, from the crack of the gun shot to her falling into his arms.

She was right, the wound wasn't as bad as the blood seemed to let on, the paramedics had agreed. With a few stitches she would be fine; the pain killers would take care of the rest.

Yet nothing at the moment could ease his own mental anguish. All he could see was the fear, the shock and the pain in her eyes as she collapsed. All he could think about was that it could have been worse, so much worse.

The unthinkable could have happened and the last thing she would know was that he was angry at her.

"_Do you think I'm a loser?" _ the words echoed in his mind.

He had been so short with her, so lost in the hurt he felt from his brother and her remarks that he had forced that question on her when he knew, deep down what her answer was.

He was a loser for letting his brother's opinions get to him. He was a loser for thinking she would believe Jared. He was a loser for having to ask her that question. He was a loser for nearly losing her.

"Agent Booth?" a nurse appeared in the hallway, "You can see her now."

He knew he hadn't lost her, not yet, but he would if he didn't talk to her.

Booth followed the nurse to Brennan's bed. The nurse pulled back the curtain to reveal his partner sitting on the edge, her left arm in a sling, the hospital dressing gown pulled down from the shoulder to reveal a large bandage.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"It's sore, but they gave me something for that. I just want to go home."

Her own bloody shirt was folded neatly beside her and he moved it to sit down. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry," he sighed in answer.

"Sorry for what?"

"For getting you shot."

"Booth, you didn't get me shot, I did."

"No, I should have made you stay on the porch or go in the house. You shouldn't have been that close."  
A small smile crept out at the edges of her mouth, "You know I wouldn't have done that."

He didn't smile back, "But I should have protected you."

In an instant she knew why he was beating himself up. She gently placed her hand on his, "I don't think you're a loser Booth."

Brown eyes met blue as she continued, "I know you're not a loser, you never have been. You're brave and loyal, a loser isn't. A loser would never care as much about their family as you do, a loser wouldn't take care of them. You're selfless, kind, and loving, among other things, but never a loser. I'm sorry for ever doubting you Booth."

"Thanks Bones," came his quiet reply as he squeezed her hand in return.

The tension that had lain between them slowly began to melt away. Later that evening, after she toasted to the "quiet man" it was gone, along with all thoughts of losers.

**The End**


End file.
